


Bright

by ottertrashpalace



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Fluff, PWP, Porn With Very Little Plot, Some angst, basically caleb looks at jester like she hung the moon, mostly - Freeform, self deprecating caleb, theyre in loooooove
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26584642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottertrashpalace/pseuds/ottertrashpalace
Summary: Jester can't bear to watch Caleb's past eating him from the inside out. So she decides to finally make her move.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 6
Kudos: 187





	Bright

**Author's Note:**

> This was provisionally going to be set the night after the dinner with Ikithon in ep 110, but it's hardly mentioned.

Jester had many conversations with her mother about sex as a child. After all, it was Marion’s profession; she had been as forthright as any daughter could hope for. At first, it was just the basics, because Jester was ten, and any ten year old would be confused but fascinated but the machinations of sex. The penis goes in, the fingers go in, it is pleasurable, adults enjoy doing this kind of thing with one another. She tried it herself, and found it uncomfortable to say the least. As the years went by, it ceased to be uncomfortable, and started to be something she looked forward to; something she could do for herself. Her questions became more detailed. The Traveler had very little to do with this, but he was happy to procure for her any smutty books that he deemed sufficiently interesting. She asked him about it, too, and found him to give much more entertaining answers than her mother, though they were rarely useful, if they were even relevant. They would laugh about the way that Mama’s suitors would do nearly anything, just for the sake of something as simple as sex. Looking back, Jester wonders if Artagan quite understands the mortal sex drive, but she hasn’t exactly had a moment to ask him recently.

In fact, it was one of the few things she had really discovered on her own, the warm itch inside her that demanded to be scratched whenever she got a chance. She read smut eagerly, and wiggled her fingers inside herself until she got too tired to go on; she even stole toys from her mother’s secret drawer sometimes, that was always fun. She made sure to clean them and put them back afterwards, of course. But none of this prepared her to strike out on her own. Life with the Mighty Nein was many things, but one of them was a cruel refutation of her understanding of sexuality. Sure, reading smut had been fun, but now there were these people, real ones, not in a book, who drew her in in a way that was utterly new. It started with Fjord. They would lean against each other, on a cold night or in the back of the cart, and electric heat would surge through her, moving downwards, and she would pretend to fix her dress just so she could put pressure there, soothe this uninvited hunger that had come over her. So she dealt with it the way she always had: she found smutty books, well practiced in casting herself in the main role; and this time, casting Fjord in the leading man's. He even kissed her, eventually, in real life and everything, but as much as she tried to reconcile fiction and reality, it didn’t work. She didn’t fall into his arms like that, and he didn’t carry her off to ravage her. She didn’t really want him to, anyway, it was someone else’s fantasy and not her own. She was left with nothing, forced to rebuild her understanding of herself, and her desires, from scratch.

And then there was Caleb.

For his part, he’d never had much time to focus on romance. There had been Astrid, of course, he had been a teenager once, but what they had was the surface intensity of first love; thin ice, so solid and lovely until it shatters under the first hint of pressure. They were fumbling kids. Goodness knows he didn’t have much of anyone to learn from on the subject: he left his parents before he was old enough for that talk, in their opinion, at least, and Ikithon… well. Love had been utterly absent from his life for over a decade, until it wormed its way back in in the form of a little goblin girl, curled up against him in the cold, dark woods. That was something else, something entirely different, a love he had never experienced before, one that he doubted would ever fade, like they had been birthed of the same womb. And then there were these assholes: loud, gaudy, fiercely caring, damaged, deceived. (by him). No--not anymore, anyway. They had seen his past laid bare at that dinner in a way he had certainly never anticipated. Perhaps it was for the best, for them to know exactly what he was (had been?). Jester was the one he couldn't forgive himself for. He had seen tears welling up in her eyes as he explained himself. She was so visibly searching for any answer besides the truth. He knew that whatever small chance he might have had was gone, and that the spark he had for so long kept deep inside would have to be extinguished. But here she was, crouching next to him in the hallway of the home he had made for them.

“Jester,” he began.

“Yes, Caleb?”

“Remind me exactly what it is we are doing?”

Jester pursed her lips. “Weellll, I thought if I polymorphed into a rat, and then you summoned Frumpkin and I climbed on Frumpkin’s back, and then we went down the hall to Beau’s room, we might be able to see through that little hole in the doorway and see if she and Yasha are banging, without giving it away that we’re spying on them.”

“Right.” Caleb sighed, and snapped his fingers. Frumpkin appeared on Jester’s shoulder.

“Ooh, kitty!” Jester cooed, scratching the tabby under his chin. Frumpkin tilted his head in a dignified manner to receive the scratchies.

“How about, I just send Frumpkin down there, you tap me on my shoulder if anyone is coming, and I will go into Frumpkin and tell you whether they are banging or not, and you do not have to waste a polymorph.” Caleb suggested, and got a little pout for his troubles.

“Okay, fine, but you have to tell me everything.”

“Ja, ja, okay.”

Jester set Frumpkin down, and on Caleb’s instructions, he wound his way down the hallway of the Magnificent Mansion, and crouched to peer through the crack next to Beau and Yasha’s door.

Caleb felt Jester’s hand on his shoulder, squeezing excitedly. It was dark inside, and he could just make out the bed and the two figures on top of it—curled up together, sleeping peacefully.

“Ja, they are totally boning,” Caleb said dryly, pulling his awareness back to himself.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it, I knew they were a thing!” Jester exclaimed. “Oooh, I knew it was the right thing to stay up late after they went to bed. I am such a good matchmaker.”

She had stayed up downstairs at the tavern on the pretense of keeping Caleb company while he copied down a spell, and she wondered if he realized she had ulterior motives.

“You stayed up until the wee hours of the morning just so you could see if two of our dear friends are boning?” Caleb said with a quirked eyebrow.

Jester rolled her eyes. “Not like that, you weirdo. I was just curious. I’m happy for them.”

“Ja, me too,” Caleb said, his voice softer. “They are well matched.”

“Well, they’re the only lesbians we’ve got, so that was lucky for them I guess.”

Caleb let out a startled laugh. “I suppose.”

A moment passed.

“Caleb?”

“ _Ja_ , Jester?”

“Have you ever boned anyone?” She tried not to look at him as she said it. There were a few seconds of excruciating silence.

“I… have, yes. I have. It was… before. In another life.”

“Oh.” She replied, letting the unspoken part of the answer hang in the air. She cursed herself for steering him into thinking about exactly what she didn't want him to have to think about. “I haven’t.” She added, finally.

He had the good grace to act surprised. “It can be… a very nice thing.” He managed.

“People keep saying that. I don’t know, they say a lot of different things.” Jester searched and searched for the words she wanted to say. “Caleb, I— I think that I don’t know what they mean.” Her traitorous voice cracked. “When they are talking about sex. I mean, I know what they mean, but I’m just, missing something. I want to know what it is.” She looked him dead in the eye, and to her surprise, he held her gaze for a second or two, and then dropped it, swallowing visibly. She watched his Adam’s apple ride up, and then down, contemplating the line that his throat made.

“Jester, I—“

“I want to know, Caleb. You don’t have to do it with me if you don’t want, or if this is the wrong time I mean I would totally understand, I just—“ want you to stop thinking about what you’re thinking about, we’re safe, you made sure we’re safe. He took her hand, and she could feel his pulse racing, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. “—thought I’d ask…” she trailed off, staring at their hands, interlocked. He had delicate fingers, calloused as they were, and they curled around her palm with the same loving precision he used to cast his spells. She watched as he brought her hand to his lips, and kissed the knuckles, just the slightest touch. Her stomach lit on fire, and she wondered vaguely if she was falling, and if she was, whether she was falling towards him, which would be preferable—or was the world just tilting around her?

“Jester,” he said, hoarse, “are you sure?”

And her heart flooded with sorrow for this man, this silly, silly man, who still seemed to think, despite it all, that they didn’t love him.

“Yeah, Caleb, I’m pretty fucking sure.” And she began to pull him with her, into the room that she wasn’t sharing with Beau that night, the room with the empty four poster bed.

“We can do whatever you want to do, it doesn’t have to be— anything,” she rambled as she shut the door behind them.

“I think that is supposed to be my line, Jess,” Caleb replied, looking a little bit shell-shocked. The moment grew awkward as they stared at each other, still four or five feet apart. Jester shook herself, and closed the distance. She wrapped her arms around Caleb, who was still shaking a little bit, and pulled him close. Hugging was familiar territory. Slowly, his hands found their way to her back, one at the small of it and the other behind her heart, and she relished his grip. Pulling away just slightly, she studied his mouth. He had wonderful lips, surrounded by reddish stubble maybe two or three days old. She thumbed across it gently, feeling the scratchy texture of it.

“Can I kiss you?” She asked.

“ _Ja_.”

And so she did. It was warm, and a little dry at first, but Caleb moved just the slightest bit and it send shivers all the way through her. She hadn’t realized that a kiss could feel like this, this pressure, the give and take between them, and she didn’t particularly want to stop. Caleb slowly began to back up, pulling her with him, until she was leaning over him as he sat against the bed, bracing himself with one hand. She eagerly climbed into his lap, and if her heart wasn’t already racing, it kicked into overdrive when she brushed against his dick, noticeably hard already. She settled in, content to keep kissing him, running her hands through his hair, across his shoulders, down his back. Slowly, she dipped her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt, testing. He exhaled shakily, and kissed her harder, and she followed with the rest of her hand, exploring the searing, warm skin, skin that was covered in scars she remembered and scars that she didn’t.

“Can I—?” She paused with her fingers on the lacings in the front of it. 

Caleb hesitated. She let her hands fall away, not wanting to push him. She remembered how he had been when they had gone to the baths as a group, how confusing it had been to her when he had been reluctant to undress.

“I don’t care what it looks like, Caleb, I just want to see you.” She said honestly. Had that been the wrong thing to say? This was so stressful. She hadn’t known it was going to be so stressful.

“I’m sorry— just give me a moment,” he stammered.

“Oh, of course,” she said, leaning back off of him a little bit with little frown.

  
He was fucking this up. He was fucking it up big time, (just like he knew he would). It had been too long, he wanted it too much, he couldn’t let himself go. Maybe he could pleasure her instead, make her feel good, and she would forget that he was too much of a coward to take off his own shirt. She was hovering just slightly above him, chest heaving. He reached a hesitant hand up, brushing it over her breast, cupping it over her dress.

“That feels so good, Caleb,” she breathed, a small keen escaping her as he squeezed, ever so slightly. He could do this. He could do this. He moved further back onto the bed, pulling her with him, kissing first her lips, then her jaw, her neck, beneath her ear. There was a smell to her, a skin-smell that lingered teasingly as he nuzzled into her, trying to catch it. Sweet, musky, and the slightest bit sour, like a well-aged wine. She hissed as his stubble pressed the soft skin there, and he pulled away. (I am not going to fuck this up, it is her first time, I am going to make it good for her). He let his hands wander downwards, but hers were already there, eagerly untying her bodice, leaving only the thin linen shirt beneath it. He was staring at her breasts; he couldn’t help himself. They were very visible through the fabric, the nipples dark, almost purple, pebbled and taut. Before he could move again, she removed the shirt in an admittedly inelegant but very effective fashion.

He simply looked, for a second. (how did I get so lucky). “You are beautiful,” he told her. That seemed like an important thing he should say.

She giggled a little bit, and gave him a soft look. “You’re very handsome too, you know.”

He didn’t answer, choosing instead to lower his mouth to her collarbone, working her breast in his hand. He experimentally dragged his teeth across her skin, which elicited a shudder and a moan. She pushed into his grip, and they were so close again, so close that he couldn’t ignore his own arousal anymore, not with her leg brushing up against it. He tried to shift away, but she caught him, and smirking, tackled him back onto the bed. 

He stiffened for a moment, but her warm weight didn’t feel restricting; her strong thighs held him in place, but it felt… good. She kissed him again, and willingly, he surrendered.

“Is this okay?” She asked quietly, between kisses.

“Ja.”

He felt her nipples trail along his chest as they kissed, and suddenly the idea of having his shirt off didn’t seem so bad after all. He fumbled for the lacing, and her hands joined his, quicker and careful, and before he could think too much about it, he pulled over his head. Jester didn’t stop, but she saw, he could tell; her brow furrowed, and her lips tensed.

Caleb winced. “Just ignore—“

Jester just sighed. “No, Caleb, I won’t, because I actually want to have sex with you, I’m not going to just pick and choose parts of you. I told you, you're gorgeous.”

To his shock, he felt the prickle of tears behind his eyes. Instead of trying to think of something to say, which he would inevitably fail at, he kissed her again. The sensation of their skin, pressing together like that, left him speechless anyway. 

Her fingers roamed over his chest, through the smattering of hair there. She couldn’t stop looking—she hoped it didn’t freak him out, it wasn’t like she was staring at his scars. He had a lot of them, even more than she had been able to trace with her fingers, but she found it far more fascinating to watch the bright red blush that was creeping down from his neck, the thin sheen of sweat that made him gleam ever so slightly. She bent down to press her mouth to his skin; he tasted of salt and warmth. Inspiration struck, and she tweaked his nipple with two fingers. 

“Jester!” He gasped. She giggled, and he breathed out a wheezing laugh. She kissed it from his lips. She realized that she was grinning like an idiot, and Caleb just shook his head, smiling. 

“You look like a cat in the cream.” He said, fondly.

“I’m really happy, Caleb,” she said, peppering his face with kisses. “I’m so happy that we’re doing this.”

“I am too,” he said softly, and she could see him receding back into himself a little bit, remembering something. 

“Caleb…” She planted a big smooch on his neck. She was very happy to just stay here, like this, but she realized she could go any number of directions, and she wanted to do more—gods, she wanted to do more. “Caleb, what do you want?” She asked, finally.

“I want… I want to make you feel good.” He replied.

“No, silly, I mean, what would make _you_ feel good?” Her insufferable wizard.

He blanched visibly. “This is about you, Jester, I am happy to do whatever you wish.”

That didn’t sit right with her. “No, Caleb, that’s what it is when I just… when it’s just me. That’s what Mama does. That’s not what it means to do it together.”

Caleb had been blushing before, but now his face was colored by shame. He looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you… do you want this?” She asked, suddenly panicking. Had she misread it? Had she dragged him into it when he didn’t actually want to have sex?

“No! I do! I do. I promise. I’m—sheiße— I’m making a mess of this.”

“Hush,” Jester told him, and kissed him again for good measure, lingering for a good while. “Just tell me one thing you like, you’ve done this before, right? Tell me what it is you like, and I’ll do it. Easy.”

He chewed on his lip. She took the moment to admire his cheekbones, which were rather well contoured by the candlelight. She briefly wondered what he would look like in makeup.

“Would you… put your mouth on me?” He said, finally, sounding rather as though he was forcing the words out through uncooperative lips.

“Where?”

He closed his eyes. “On my… down there.”

“Your _down there_.” She repeated dryly. Maybe she shouldn’t be making fun of him in this situation, but really, was she supposed to let him get away with that? 

He gave an exasperated sigh. “My dick, Jester. Oh gods…”

She couldn’t help herself, she was laughing. Caleb had closed his eyes and looked vaguely like he wanted to sink into the mattress and never emerge.

“That sounds nice,” she said, once she had mostly stopped giggling.

He opened one weary eye. “If you want to, I mean, I don’t want—

“Of course I want to, I wouldn’t do it otherwise. I asked, you dummy,” she reassured him. It was true. She had often wondered what it would be like to suck someone off. What would it taste like? She had put her fingers down her throat once and discovered that she rather liked the way her throat closed around them when they went a little too far down. “Will you tell me if I'm doing it right?” She asked, a little more quietly.

“Okay.” He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The surge of happiness returned, and she moved down his body, hooking her finger lightly under the band of his pants. She looked up at him questioningly.

With a visible swallow, he moved to shift them off, slowly but surely. His cock was standing at attention, and once again, Jester tried not to stare. She had seen dicks before, just not, like, up close. It was vaguely intimidating for a second, but then she thought, don’t be silly, it’s just a dick.

“Ah, Jester, are you gut—“

“Yeah, yeah, sorry.” And in one smooth motion, she took the entire length of it into her mouth. Caleb made a noise somewhere between a wail and growl, and Jester choked, at least a little bit. Maybe she should slow down. She closed her mouth around the tip, and moved slowly down, letting her tongue wrap around it, coat it in fluid. She remembered something she had read, once, and wrapped one hand around the base of it, squeezing slightly, letting her fingers venture underneath to tease at his balls.

She pulled off. “Well?”

He looked at her helplessly. “It feels… really good.”

She gave him a look. "I really don't know what I'm doing, at all, so some guidance would be great."

He sighed. “Maybe… a little faster? And be careful with your teeth, _bitte_.”

“Okay,” she said, and maintained eye contact while she slid her mouth back down his shaft. She swore his eyes rolled back into his head. He was so quiet; just heavy breathing, the occasional sigh, or slightest, smallest noise that made Jester redouble her efforts to hear more.

She opened her eyes, and saw Caleb’s fist clenched in the blanket, stiff, straining. She reached out and put her hand over his, prying the fingers away, dragging them towards her head. He brushed her hair back and cradled her head, and she shuddered. A thought occurred to her, and she reached down between her legs, to press her fingers to the familiar heat. To her surprise, she could feel dampness seeping through her shift. She couldn’t remember being that wet, before. Not without touching herself.

“Jester?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you come up here, please?”

She did. The flavor of him was still in her mouth, musky and warm and soft. He kissed her anyway.

“I may be the luckiest man in Exandria, right about now” he said, and he was smiling again.

“Aw, Caleb,” she said, her voice coming out a little creaky.

“I should have asked you earlier, but I am asking you now. What do you want, liebling?” 

Jester bit her lip, and thought about it. “I think, it’s two things. Is that okay? You only told me one.”

His smile just grew. “Ja, Jester, that is okay.”

“First… I want you to finger me. And then, I want you to fuck me.”

Caleb thought briefly that if he were to die, right then and there, he would die a happy man. It was a new feeling. But, of course, he wouldn’t dream of going anywhere, leaving her like this. It would be a travesty

“As my lady demands. I will add another request, if it is okay with you.”

“That depends, Caleb, what is the request?” Jester said playfully.

“That I might return the favor.” He breathed, and with some effort, he flipped them over and pressed a hand to her skirt, asking without asking. She took his hand again, always so sure, so steady, and guided him between her legs. The fabric was already wet, and he felt his pulse throb. He traced over her folds, feeling the shape of her. Her hips bucked against his hand.

“Don’t be a tease, Caleb, gods,” she whined, drawing a chuckle out of him.

“All right, then.” And he helped her pull down her skirt and her smallclothes, which she kicked off with aplomb. She was naked, and Caleb thought with a huff that it wasn’t the first time he had seen her without clothes; they had traveled together for so long now that no one’s body was a mystery, not even his. So why was it so different? Why did he feel like he was standing in front of the divine gates, gazing at something he had never seen the likes of before, something too holy for his mortal eyes? She wasn’t a woman of the cloth, not really, but he couldn’t say it made a bit of difference.

“Calebbbb!”

“Patience,” he managed, and let himself touch, running his hands along the softness above her navel, the round of her hips, where they dipped in and then out again, the small fold of stomach just above the thatched dark hair, the soft spot inside her strong thighs. He followed with his mouth, and Jester squirmed so hard he almost fell off. He chuckled against her skin, pressed a kiss to her thigh, and moved to her … down there.

He remembered liking this, before, but clearly time had worn the shine off of that memory, because this was so much more. The smell was almost overwhelming, and he drank it in. He started off with the tip of his tongue, tracing the shape of her labia, gathering the dew on his tongue. He ventured down lower, finding where the dampness yielded inwards and pushing against it. Her hips bucked up against him, and he wrapped his hands behind her thighs to steady her. He pressed the flat of his tongue over her entrance, and moved up lazily, lightening the pressure to circle her clit. Jester squealed. At this point, he vaguely remembered that he was supposed to use his hands, so he shifted slightly and brought one hand to meet his mouth. He paused, and, struck by a sudden inspiration, looked up and locked eyes with Jester, who was panting slightly. As she watched, he slid two fingers lasciviously into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them and coating them in the mixture of saliva and her slick.

She let out a groan as he traced his fingers around her clit, and pressed one in. It took him a moment to find the right angle, but when he did, she opened up to him like a flower unfolding, and he brushed along the inside wall, feeling her contract as he brushed the spot he was looking for.

“Do that again,” she gasped

“As you wish.” He rubbed the sweet spot with the tip of his finger, bending it just so, and added the second finger. She hissed out a breath as he stretched her, but her muscles gave willingly, and a fresh sheen of wetness leaking out. He could feel it pearling on his knuckles as they moved in and out.   
After some trial and error, he found a good rhythm between tongue and fingers, guided by Jester’s vocal response, which was quickly getting louder and more guttural. He let her grind into his mouth as she chased her climax, the sensation of it overwhelming him in the best possible way.

“Come for me,” he murmured into her skin, and attached his lips to her clit.

With a kick and a whine, she did. He could feel every muscle in her body tense, like a tight-strung wire, and then relax with a shudder. He cradled her through it all, and left one last kiss on her pubic bone before coming back up, lying down shakily beside her. She hummed, rolled onto her side, and kissed him.

“Do you want—“ he had to clear his throat. “Do you want to keep going? We could stop there. I would be okay with that.”

She just smiled and shook her head. “Give me just a minute, I still want to fuck you.” She smirked.

“Arguably, we have already fucked.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I do—ah,” he stopped short as she pressed her hip to his crotch, creating just enough friction to be unbearable. They were both naked now, and Caleb’s brain briefly short-circuited as he realized just how close they were, how easy it would be to shift just so and—

“Wait, wait, do you have… protection?” His body so desperately wanted not to care, but he was used to reining in urges.

“Yeah, of course, I use a cantrip.” She said, rolling her eyes like it was obvious. “Now, can we please do this?” Without further ado, she wrapped a leg around his hips and rolled them neatly over so that he was on top again. She let her vulva drag against the length of his cock, and visibly shuddered. The anticipation was building in Caleb’s stomach like a slow fire.

“Do you like this position? We can do something else, I don’t mind. I just always imagined doing this, I used to like to… I mean, nevermind.” Jester babbled. Caleb was reminded that this was in fact her first time, something he had been too… distracted to consider for the past few minutes.

“This is good, this is good. Go ahead. It is… probably best if you position us, and, ah, guide me in. I can, well, it might be easier if I got on top. It is entirely up to you.” Jester traced a hand down his chest, looking at him with something resembling hunger in her eyes. Caleb’s stomach clenched instinctually, and he felt his dick throb.

“I guess we could switch later if we wanted to.” Jester decided.

Privately, Caleb wasn’t sure he was going to last that long.

Jester wrapped her fingers around his dick, which was already starting to leak precome, and angled her hips over it. It took a few tries for her to find the angle she needed, but when she did, her eyes widened, and she slowly began to sink down. Caleb lost himself in the feeling of being enveloped in lush heat, digging his fingers into the bed beneath him. He was glad he wasn’t the one on top in that moment, because he was sure his arms would have given out. After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, Jester bottomed out on his cock, his eyes met hers, blow wide with excitement. She leaned down on his chest, kissing him deeply.

“This feels incredible, Caleb,” she whispered. “Oh gods…”

And then she started to move. Caleb could swear he saw stars. It was awkward for a minute, like any first time, as they searched for their rhythm. Eventually, Caleb stopped trying to rut his hips up, as his legs were growing shakier with each thrust, and he let Jester do as she pleased. She favored a sort of rocking motion, and with each forward motion, she let out a small, pleased whine. He let one hand rest on her hips, the other traveling up to her breasts, and she leaned into them. She got bolder, and moved harder, snapping her hips to his. It felt heavenly, and the fire in his belly was being stoked hot and fast.

She was close, too, he could tell—so soon. She leaned down, bracing on one forearm and tangling her other hand in his hair. Chasing his release, he turned his head, letting the sharp tug temper the haze of his pleasure. She seemed to realize what was happening, and took a firmer grip, not pulling, just holding him, and kissed passionately, threading their tongues together.

“Jester, Jester, I am not going to—last—much longer,” he choked out, as her rhythm grew punishingly fast.

“Then come for me.” She purred.

And he did. It felt like slow motion, the way it does when you crest the top of a roller coaster and then come speeding down. She fucked him through it, and then collapsed on top of him with a groan, her own pleasure sated.

In the post-orgasmic bliss, he did not mind one bit having a mass of tiefling on top of him. The weight felt nice.

“Wow, that felt really fucking good,” Jester said into his shoulder.

“Ja.” For once, words didn’t easily form in the soup that was Caleb’s mind. His whole body felt pleasantly jelly-like. “…Are you sure you hadn’t done that before?”

Jester laughed, a sound that made a wave of warmth come over him. “Yeah, Caleb, I’m pretty sure.” She leaned up a little bit and looked him in the eye, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “It was amazing. You were amazing. I think I want to do that again, probably a lot.”

Caleb breathed out a hoarse chuckle. “Maybe not right this very instant, schatz.” The term of endearment slipped out without him thinking about it. “But I would if I could.”

“No, of course not, silly. But, in the future? We could do this again?”

Caleb just stared at her in wonderment. “For you, anything.”

She flushed purple, and rolled off to his side, collapsing flat on her back. He managed to prop himself up on his side, chasing her warmth, letting one hand rest on her stomach.

She leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips. “That’s very romantic, Caleb.”

He smiled; he couldn’t help himself. She always had that effect on him “Guilty.” Some words occurred to him, the kind of words that he had often thought to himself—usually followed by the thought that he would never, ever say them out loud, let alone to her.

“Do you think we should tell the others?” She wondered aloud.

“Tell them what?” _That we had sex, once?_

Jesters face fell. “Right.”

Panic rose in Caleb’s stomach. What had he said wrong? “I’m sorry, I just meant… what would we say?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about that part. It’s just, you said you wanted to do this again?”

Oh. _Oh_.

“Ja, Jester, I do. I…” what words could he put to this feeling? It had lived within him for months now, and yet he hadn’t so much as imagined what it would be like to tell her. Helplessly, he settled for “We can do this, and more…? If you would want?”

She cocked her head. “Oh, Caleb. You are so smart, but so silly sometimes.” She wrapped him in her arms and pulled him close. “I would like that very, very much.”

Caleb felt himself blush. “All right, then.”

A few moments passed, the two of them happy to stay quiet and entwined, breathing each other in.

“Could I stay here, tonight?” Caleb asked, almost imperceptibly.

“Of course you can stay here, did you think I was going to kick you out?” Jester exclaimed.

Caleb did not answer, just buried his face further into the crook of her neck. Jester huffed and pulled the covers over them, and there they stayed.

Caleb, for once, was out like a light. Jester wasn’t quite sleepy yet, and she let her eyes wander over his sleeping form. Relief, pride, and joy washed over her. She mused that she just might have succeeded in putting Trent out of his mind. They would sleep well tonight.

Eventually, she too closed her eyes, and let sleep take her. 

**Author's Note:**

> Am I too good to make Princess Bride references in my smut? Apparently not.


End file.
